


Business

by Wallwalker



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Community: fic_on_demand, M/M, Snark, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-04
Updated: 2009-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-04 04:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallwalker/pseuds/Wallwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reeve really isn't sure what to expect from the new administration. Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/25779">Embarrassment.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Business

Reeve hadn't known what to expect when the call had come in the wee hours of a Friday morning, telling him that President Shinra was dead and that the new President, Rufus Shinra, was ordering the entire Executive Committee to get to the tower for an emergency meeting on the double. He'd dressed, bathed and caught the train in a cloud of confusion. He hadn't had time to trim his beard, and his suit was a mess... he couldn't help but feel self-conscious, half-dressed, as he stood on the train and watched the city lights flash by its windows.

It wasn't entirely his fault. Every time he thought about Rufus he thought about that disastrous visit in his office a few months ago. The whole thing had been burned into his head - Rufus's adolescent playfulness, and how close to Reeve he'd been standing... It made his cheeks go warm every time he thought about it. It wasn't very professional of him at all.

He arrived at the tower and was shortly ushered into one of the rarely-used conference rooms on the top floor. They sat crowded around a small table that was crowded with folders and glasses and a pitcher of water, wedged between his least favorite people. Heidegger smelled of cheap booze and cologne, but his tacky green suit was nicely pressed; Scarlet looked perfect and fake and mean as a snake, as always. Reeve felt even more out of place between them.

Palmer, at least, looked as tired and frustrated as Reeve felt; he had a cup of tea and a huge danish from one of the vending machines, and he was eating and drinking as fast and as sloppily as he could. Reeve quietly looked around for signs of Hojo, but Hojo wasn't there; that in itself wasn't odd, since Hojo tended to ignore deadlines and emergencies unless they directly involved him.

The new president looked a mess, though. One of his eyes was covered in bandages, and there was a livid bruise on his cheek. He walked slowly, as if everything hurt, and Reeve thought that he heard a slight wince as he sat at the head of the small table. But when he looked at his committee - when he spoke to them - his manner was utterly and unfailingly professional. He looked each one of them in the eye, and there was more than a hint of steel in his voice. "I'm not going to mince words with any of you, gentlemen," he said, ignoring Scarlet's angry snort. Reeve silently approved; if Scarlet wanted to be treated like a man, she could damn well stop insisting she be called a lady. "There has been a serious breach of security in this tower, and it _is not_ going to happen again. Heidegger, you're going to make sure of that."

"Ah... yes, Sir," Heidegger managed. "I mean, yes, Mr. President-"

"That's enough," he said curtly.

The rest of the meeting went much the same way - Rufus giving orders, making demands, bulldozing over attempts at both argument and agreement. Reeve learned quickly to stay quiet, and waited for his turn to receive orders.

Twenty minutes later, Rufus had barely even acknowledged that Reeve was there. He looked around the room again, then nodded curtly. "That will be all," he said. "Go home and get some sleep. You'll need it come tomorrow."

Reeve couldn't suppress a feeling of disappointment. He'd been half-hoping that Rufus would say something to him, so that he could stay quiet and make a good impression to make up for that horrible last one. He stood up amid the grumbles of his neighbors, took his coat from the table behind him, and paused to adjust it before he followed the rest of the board out of the door.

"Reeve," Rufus said before he reached the door. Reeve stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard his name. "Sit down. We have more to discuss."

"Yes, Mr. President," Reeve said, and hoped that he wasn't blushing very much that time. He turned around and sat back down, across the table from the battered figure in the white coat.

Rufus took a drink from his glass of water. "You seem a bit distracted," he said calmly.

"I..." Reeve cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. "I was concerned by your appearance," he said quickly.

"Just a little altercation." Rufus's face darkened. "Part of that security breach I mentioned earlier."

"I see," Reeve said. He cleared his throat. "So, ah... what can I do for you, Mr. President?"

"You can lighten up a bit, for starters." Rufus looked at Reeve again, and then smiled. It wasn't the same smile, but it must've been hard for him to smile at all, as bruised as his face looked. "You're thinking of our prior meeting, aren't you?"

Reeve closed his eyes, took a deep breath. "Yes, sir," he admitted.

Rufus leaned back in his chair. "Something you'll learn about me quickly," he answered calmly. "Unlike my old man, I never mix business with pleasure."

Reeve raised an eyebrow, but all he could manage was a fairly weak nod. "Oh," he said. "Of course."

Rufus chuckled and took another drink. "That doesn't mean that both don't have their place," he said, "but my old man tried to have them at the same time, and we both know how _he_ ended up. I prefer to save mine for a more... _appropriate_ time." He checked his watch. "Next Monday night, for instance, after I've had the worst of this tended to. I'll have to think of the details later."

Reeve's throat suddenly went dry. "You'll let me know where, then?" he said quietly. "And when?"

"Of course. It won't be much fun without you." He cleared his throat. "But first we have business to deal with," he continued in his serious voice. "We need to get a spy into AVALANCHE. I've been studying your animatronic designs, particularly the ones in that folder in front of you, and I think that we could use one of them - something whimsical, something that the terrorists won't immediately suspect."

Reeve took a drink, a quick one, and cleared his own throat. "Of course, Mr. President," he said in as normal a voice he could manage. "That won't be a problem."

"Of course not." Rufus allowed a ghost of a smile to slip through his business mask as he nodded. "Now, let's talk about the details, get any funding problems ironed out quickly. We need to keep tabs on AVALANCHE, and we need to start as soon as possible."

"Yes, Mr. President. By all means." Reeve opened the folder and started to shuffle through his designs. His misgivings were fading; he was starting to think that he was going to _like_ this new administration.


End file.
